Hasperat and Raincoats
by Frank Toadfish
Summary: Miles and Julian skive off a mission to have lunch together. Friendship, not slash.


A clap of thunder bellowed in the sky above as the two men in oversized raincoats cautiously approached their destination. The building, although old and showing signs of disrepair, seemed to welcome them with its intricately carved wooden doors.

"Is this it?" Miles asked his friend, in a whisper only just audible through the rain that spattered down onto them.

"This is where the Vedek said," Julian replied, and took off his sunglasses, a disguise he had worn for entertainment more than the weather. He shook his head, and a mini shower of raindrops cascaded down his already soaked jacket. "Come on, let's see if they've got a spare table."

"You do realise I'm not going to like you for several days if they haven't," the Chief grumbled. "All this secret spies lark just to go for lunch. If Sisko finds out we're skiving from another one of his missions, we're deader than the Tribble home world."

"It's not exactly skiving, Miles," Julian said, putting his sunglasses inside the pocket of his coat. "Well, maybe it is, but how often do we get to have lunch together?"

"That's your fault," the engineer frowned. "You're always with that Cardassian."

"Not every day," Julian said, a little hurt. "Besides, you could always join us."

"Ha," Miles muttered, and took off the hat he was wearing. He ran a hand through his curly hair. "Are we going to eat, or not?"

Julian looked uncertainly at the somewhat dilapidated building, and knocked gently on the age-stained doors. All was silent for a moment, and the doctor looked at his friend, who shrugged his shoulders in return. Then there were footsteps, and the doors opened, shining a comforting light out to the grey sky and the sodden Starfleet officers in the old-fashioned raincoats.

"You knocked?" came a voice from inside the building, and an elderly man emerged from behind one of the doors. His silver hair and earring shone in the candlelight that illuminated the room he stood in. He studied the two men, and smiled kindly. "You would like a table, for two?"

"Please," Julian replied, and the Bajoran motioned for them to enter. Miles glanced at him suspiciously before stepping inside. He had always been wary of people who appeared to be too nice. At times in his past, the engineer had discovered that a very benign personality could be nothing more than a facade.

The older man led the two of them down a dusty, faded corridor and into a large, warmly lit room, with small tables filling almost all of the space. He ushered them to a table in the corner, which would have been the perfect place for a view of the Bajoran countryside, had there been any windows in the room at all.

Julian sat down, and after a moment, Miles did the same. The man smiled at them again, showing a grin with a few missing teeth. The engineer looked uneasy.

"What would you like?" the Bajoran asked them. "Anything at all, I can make for you. As you can see, this is not the busiest restaurant on Bajor." He gestured to the room, which besides the three of them, was completely deserted.

The doctor picked up the data PADD containing the menu that was on the table. He looked at it intently for minute, and then passed it to O'Brien, who started slightly and took it from him.

"I think you should know this before we order," Julian said to the old man. "We don't actually have any money."

Miles looked at him. "You didn't bring any with you?" Julian shook his head.

"I was hoping we'd be able to mend some of your equipment instead. Or something like that in exchange. Would that be OK?" The Bajoran frowned.

"Well, I usually take latinum nowadays, but I don't suppose a trade will do any harm. Business is business, after all. I know you Starfleet types and your views on currency."

Miles put the menu down. "How did you know we were Starfleet?"

"I know a lot of things," the Bajoran answered. "And no one else but Starfleet officers would wear those raincoats on Bajor. What do you want to eat?"

"The hasperat looks good," Julian said.

"Same for me, too," Miles added quickly. The old man nodded, and O'Brien gave him the menu. The restaurant owner shuffled over towards another door, presumably the kitchen, and disappeared. O'Brien waited until he was out of sight, and let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm glad he's gone," he admitted. "That was a bit awkward, wasn't it? I hope he's not aware of the mission going on across the marsh back there. I don't want him to contact Sisko."

"He won't be," Julian assured him. "I don't think he's even aware of what's going on in this restaurant. Now, let's talk."

"Why?" Miles asked.

"Because that's what you do with your friends when you're having lunch with them," Julian smiled. "Honestly, Chief. Don't you ever socialise?"

"Of course I do," O'Brien snapped. "Just not with that Cardassian."

"But with Garak, it's-"

"No, Julian!" Miles interrupted. "I didn't risk getting another boot print on my already tarnished record to talk about Cardie spies!" The doctor looked at him.

"Alright then, Miles. Let's talk about you, shall we?"

Miles looked slightly happier. "OK, then. What do you want to know?"

"Your time on the Enterprise?" Julian suggested. "Starfleet's most cherished ship? You must have had some pretty exciting times."

"Oh, yeah," O'Brien sighed nostalgically. "Loads of strange things happened on that ship. We went to many weird places. We even left the galaxy once."

Julian's mouth fell open. "You're kidding?"

"I'm serious!" Miles protested. "Some alien propelled the whole crew right out of the Milky Way. It was terrifying. Beautiful, but terrifying."

Julian laughed. "Miles O'Brien, intergalactic explorer! Anything else I should know about this superhero I'm sharing a table with?"

O'Brien nodded, eager to talk now. "I got possessed by an alien prisoner," he told the doctor. "It took control of my body." His expression fell. "I scared the hell out Molly and Keiko, though. I nearly killed them." He took one of the napkins from the table and twisted it to distract himself from the memory. Julian looked concerned.

"I'm sure they understood, once they knew it wasn't you," he reassured his friend. "Tell me about your wedding."

Miles looked up from the napkin, and smiled thinly. "It was only just a wedding, you know. It very nearly wasn't."

"You got cold feet?" Julian asked, surprised.

"No, Keiko did," the Chief replied. "But Data talked her into changing her mind. He was the one who introduced us to each other in the first place."

"Data?" Julian asked, his eyes wide. "You mean the android? I met him once, that time the Enterprise crew visited the station? I worked with him, and his friend, who had some sort of visual impairment?"

"Who, Geordi? Miles smiled. "He was my best man."

"You're kidding!" Julian said again. "I met the two people responsible for the wedding of my best friend, and I didn't even know it? I wish I could have been there. You know, when you got married."

"You would have still been at the Academy," O'Brien laughed. "Besides, I don't think I would have liked that Bashir. I'm only friends with you now since you stopped being so pompous. Now, where's our food?"

"O'BRIEN! BASHIR!"

The two men looked round, and saw Commander Sisko at the other side of the room, two security officers behind him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Lunch break, sir?" Julian answered politely. Sisko raised an eyebrow.

"A _two hour_ lunch break?"

Miles looked shocked. "We've been gone two hours?"

"Yes, you have," Sisko frowned. "Consider this an informal warning to both of you. I suggest you get back to work before I make a record of it. Now."

The two men stood up, and meekly followed the Commander out of the restaurant and back onto the marshland, where the Bajoran sun had just begun to shine.


End file.
